


This Golden Age

by Rowena_Jones



Series: Golden [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Period AU, F/F, F/M, Female Merlin, Friendship, Genderbending, Girl!Merlin, Lady Merlyn, Merlin AU, Romance, Royalty, Slow Burn, noble merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 07:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12601724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowena_Jones/pseuds/Rowena_Jones
Summary: Merlyn had certainly changed over the last five years. She had been a rather scrawny, wild-haired girl of thirteen the last time Arthur had seen her, and not of much interest to a fifteen-year-old boy barely a year away from achieving knighthood. Now she was a tall, striking, young woman with piercing blue eyes, a sprinkle of freckles across her pale nose, and long raven hair that fell in soft waves all the way down her back.Granted, if the way she’d gingerly picked up her skirts before storming away from him was any indication, she hadn’t lost any of her natural clumsiness. Her sharp tongue also appeared to be intact, and despite the outward changes in her appearance, it seemed quite clear that the Merlyn he remembered from his youth was very much alive and well. The next few months would certainly be interesting.





	1. Prologue: The Rebirth of Magic

The small farming village of Ealdor sat just within the borders of Essetir. It was little more than an hours walk before a traveler might cross into the neighbouring kingdom of Camelot and as Hunith stood on the Ridge of Ascetir – the borderline which the kings of both great nations had agreed upon many years before – she glanced briefly back in the direction from which she had come. Ealdor had long since disappeared and all that lay behind her was the well traveled Great Road and the dense green forest.

With a sigh, Hunith turned and once again continued on her journey. She was doing the right thing. With the help of her brother she would be able to give her child – _Balinor’s child _–__ a better life than could ever be found in Ealdor. She smiled briefly and placed a protective hand over the small bump that was proof of the tiny babe growing within her belly. Hunith knew that living in Camelot would be dangerous, especially since it was the fabled Knights of Camelot from which Balinor had been fleeing so desperately when he first arrived on her doorstep more than a year before. It was also their continued pursuit that had finally driven him away from the place only weeks previously, but Edrik was family, and despite being one of their number, he would not turn her in, even if she did have any plans to tell him who the father of her child was, which she didn’t. No, that was a secret much better kept to herself.

Hunith knew from her brother’s letters that he was on leave from active duty for a few months due to an injury he had received while in service to King Uther. As a result, he was spending his time overseeing the running of the family estate of Faenor Pell while he recovered. Hunith had only been to the estate once before. It had been right after their father’s death when Edrik had first taken over his land and titles. Hunith had preferred Ealdor as she had grown up there and knew no other home, but from what she remembered, Faenor Pell was a beautiful place. She only hoped her brother was still there when she arrived and hadn’t already returned to his duties in Camelot.

.o.O.o.

It took Hunith four long days of traveling before she finally reached her brother’s lands. On the final night of her journey it rained, but by morning the clouds had parted leaving the sky a brilliant shade of cornflower blue. The sun dried Hunith’s damp clothes and by midafternoon the day was almost uncomfortably warm. It was only a few hours later that she emerged from the tree line and could see the estate from the high hill on which she stood. The keep and surrounding village was nestled neatly in a large valley, a gently flowing river kept the fields lush and green as it wandered lazily in the direction of the sea many miles away.

“We’re nearly there, little one.” She smiled and placed her hand on her belly once again.

A half hour later, Hunith crossed the sturdy stone bridge built over the river and walked slowly through the village until she reached the manor house. Pell Keep was built from smooth grey stone. It sat, large and imposing amongst the tenant cottages. It faced the river, its back to the forested hills that surrounded the valley. A mote filled with water diverted from the river circled the building; Hunith crossed the drawbridge and entered the small courtyard. The cobblestone square was almost completely empty; a stable boy brushed down a large black stallion, a housemaid carried a basket of fresh washing. Nobody took any notice of Hunith when she appeared or when she looked around briefly to locate someone who might know the whereabouts of her brother.

In the far corner of the courtyard stood a woman who caught Hunith’s attention. She was speaking with a kitchen maid. She looked to be a few years older then Hunith, her soft brown hair braided neatly around her head. Hunith walked towards her. When the kitchen maid scurried away, the woman turned and saw that she was being approached. She smiled and moved forward.

“Hello, what can I do for you? Are you passing through?” Her voice was warm and kind. She smiled welcomingly at Hunith.

“I’m here to see my brother.” Hunith replied, returning the woman’s smile and letting some the the tension release from her shoulders. “Is Sir Edrik at home?”

“You must be Lady Hunith!” The woman beamed and dropped a small curtsey.

“Yes, I suppose I am.” Said Hunith, bemused. She’d never given her title much thought before. “But please, just Hunith is fine.”

“Of course, milady.” A mischievous smirk appeared on her face and Hunith chuckled. “I’m Anna, the housekeeper. Your brother talks a great deal about you.”

“Oh, dear.”

Anna laughed. “All good things, I promise. I’ll take you to him now. I believe he’s in his study.”

The two woman walked up the steps that lead to the main door of the keep. It was large and heavy, made of oak and intricately decorated with wrought iron designs that swirled across the surface. Inside, the entrance hall was cool and inviting, the fireplace empty due to the late summer heat. Rich tapestries covered the walls, and as Anna lead Hunith down a long hallway and passed a staircase leading down a twisting set of stairs, she could smell the comforting aroma of fresh baked bread drifting up from what she assumed were the kitchens.

Finally, they stopped in front of a sturdy looking door and Anna knocked. When she heard the answering summons to enter, she turned to Hunith.

“Wait, here. I’ll tell him he has a visitor.” She said, before opening the door and slipping into the room. Hunith could hear muffled voices coming from the chamber inside, before all of a sudden, the door swung wide open and a tall figure came bounding out. Hunith had only a moment to realize the person was indeed her brother before she was swept up into a tight hug. She sagged against him and breathed deeply, feeling as safe and content in her big brother’s protective embrace as she had as a little girl. Eventually, Edrik pulled away and looked down at her.

“I’ve missed you. What are you doing here? Is everything all right?” he asked. His voice was laced with concern but he didn’t seem able to keep the large smile off his face. Hunith smiled back, bracing herself to tell him the reason for her long journey to Faenor Pell.

“I’m with child.” She said quietly, looking up at him worriedly through glassy eyes. “I did not wish to stay in Ealdor any longer and I had no where else to go.”

Edrik blinked in surprise before putting a firm hand on Hunith’s shoulder.

“You and Uncle Gaius are the only family I have left but I will be happy to add another to that number.” He said solemnly. “You know that you are always welcome here, it is as much your home as it is mine. Both you and your child shall be well looked after, I promise you.”

Hunith only nodded, her eyes welling up with tears she had long been refusing to shed.

.o.O.o.

The next few months flew by. The day after she arrived, Edrik called for the local midwife and healer – a kind, elderly woman named Ellyn – to look her over. Ellyn told her that she and the baby both seemed to be in perfect health and that by the look of it, labour would rear its ugly head sometime after Yule. Edrik was recalled to his duties in Camelot only a week after Hunith’s arrival, but he promised to be there to meet his niece or nephew when they were born. Anna kept her busy and distracted from the growing anxiety she felt at the thought of giving birth and before anyone could have believed it, Yule came and went, and three weeks later Hunith felt the first pains of labour.

The delivery was long and the pain seemingly unending but with the help of Anna, Ellyn, and Gaius, who had made the trip from Camelot with Edrik to see his future great niece or nephew into the world, it all went smoothly. Even with Edrik pacing anxiously outside Hunith’s chamber door. Once it was all over though, all the pain seemed to melt away when she held her tiny baby for the first time.

“Hello, Merlyn.” Hunith smiled down at her daughter and kissed the tip of her nose. “Welcome to the world.”

It wasn’t until later that Hunith began to notice anything strange or unusual; such as the vase of dried flowers she kept by her chamber window miraculously returning to life on the night of her daughter’s birth. The bright array of colourful blooms a stark contrast to the howling winds and blowing snow in the world outside the warm and protective walls of Pell Keep.


	2. Welcome to Camelot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART ONE: The Beginning  
>  _In which Lady Merlyn de Pell is sent to Camelot,_  
>  _and much chaos ensues. ___

_18 Years Later_

Merlyn sighed and patted the neck of her pitch-black mare, Adara, while she gazed up at the gleaming white castle in the distance; the very beating heart of Camelot. She had not been particularly happy when her uncle had informed her that she was to be King Uther’s ward while he was away fighting on the northern plains. Since the death of her mother, he hadn’t felt right leaving her in Faenor Pell all by herself. Merlyn had rolled her eyes and reminded him that she was hardly alone at Pell Keep – there was Anna, the housekeeper, Will, the stable hand, Alys, the kitchen maid, Michael, the steward, and any number of other servants and tenants that lived on his land – but she had been unable to sway him from his decision, so off to Camelot she had gone. She didn’t deny that it would be nice to spend time with Morgana as she hadn’t seen her in nearly five years and – despite their constant correspondence – she had dearly missed her friend. She had decided before she left home that she would simply have to avoid Uther, ignore Arthur, and spend as much time as she could with Morgana during her stay. Merlyn was quite sure that was the only way she would possibly manage to survive.

“We had best keep riding, milady.” A voice interrupted Merlyn’s thoughts as another horse sidled up next to hers. The rider was a young man by the name of Bran, Merlyn’s traveling companion for the journey, and having been charged with seeing his master’s niece delivered safely to Camelot, any unscheduled stops made him particularly antsy. It was said that bandits lived in the forests around the city, waiting for unsuspecting travelers, and while he was carrying a sword at his hip, he wasn’t particularly well versed in actually _using_ it.

“Yes, you’re right, of course.” Merlyn reluctantly agreed, urging Adara into an easy trot towards their destination. Bran followed quickly behind and soon they reached the gates of Camelot.

The streets of the Lower Town were abuzz with activity. It was market day and the very air seemed to vibrate with the vibrant energy of busy people. Merlyn had forgotten how pleasant the constant motion of the city was and smiled as she and Bran carefully directed their horses through the loud and cheerful throngs. The Upper Town was considerably quieter, consisting mostly of large houses belonging to noblemen and their families or wealthy merchants who had settled in the city, but even than, the streets still held a crowded bustle that would never be found in Faenor Pell.

Merlyn lead the way through the large castle gates, past the two scarlet clad guards stationed there, and into the open courtyard of Camelot castle. A small cry of happiness escaped her lips when she saw who was waiting to greet them on the palace steps. Merlyn quickly brought her horse to a halt and gracefully slide from its back before she ran up the stairs, almost tripping over the hem of her comfortable riding dress in her excitement.

Morgana laughed as she was wrapped in a fierce hug, but returned the embrace just as tightly.

“Its been far to long since your last visit, Merlyn!” said Morgana happily when Merlyn finally released her.

“It certainly has been!” Merlyn agreed. “Have you been well? It’s hard to tell properly in letters.”

Morgana frowned slightly before shaking herself and assuring Merlyn of her good health.

“I’m glad.” Said Merlyn, taking Morgana’s arm, all the while, making a note to ask her again later when they were alone, having notice the flash of fear and fatigue in her friend’s face at her question. As the two women were about to walk up the remaining steps and into the castle, Merlyn turned to Bran, who was standing in the courtyard, holding the reins of the two horses that they had arrived on. Another servant had joined him and was carefully removing the saddlebags from Adara.

“Oh, I’m sorry! That was rude of me.” Said Merlyn, blushing slightly. “Morgana, this is Bran. He accompanied me on my journey from Faenor Pell. Bran, this is the Lady Morgana le Fay.”

“Milady.” Bran said, bowing his head in a respectful gesture.

“A pleasure to meet you, Bran. I thank you for delivering Lady Merlyn to Camelot in one piece. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you wish.” Morgana smiled warmly at him.

“Thank you, milady, but I must return at once.”

“Well then, you must feed and water your horse at the stables before you set out. I shall have one of the maids prepare you a bundle of food for your trip.”

“Thank you, milady.” Said Bran gratefully.

“Not at all.” Said Morgana.

Merlin skipped lightly down the steps to stroke Adara gently on the nose.

“Do take good care of her, won’t you?” she said to the stable boy who had collected her reins from Bran. “She is particularly fond of oats and green apples.”

“She’ll be well looked after, milady.” He grinned, patting the horse on her neck. “The stable master had a stall made ready for her right next to Lady Morgana’s horse. She’ll want for nothing, I promise.”

“Good.” Said Merlyn. She gave Adara one last pat and watched as the stable boy lead her out towards the royal stables. She then turned to Bran.

“You’ve been an excellent companion, Bran. I hope to see you soon. Do give my love to everyone back home.”

“Of course, milady. I shall see you upon your return to Pell Keep. I hope you enjoy your stay in Camelot.” Bran replied.

“I’m sure I will.” Said Merlyn.

Bran bowed once more before following the stable boy in the direction of the stables. Merlyn walked back up the stairs to rejoin Morgana and, linking arms with her once again, they walked inside the castle.

“I’m to give you Uther’s apologizes for not being here to greet you.” Morgana rolled her eyes and lead Merlyn up the Griffin Staircase. “An emergency court session was called to try a man for some crime or another.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.” Said Merlyn. “No, I don’t think so. I’m sure we’ll get the details at supper. Uther wishes for you to join us.” Said Morgana.

“Of course.” Said Merlyn, not particularly happy about the prospect of eating dinner with the king, but he was her guardian now, at least temporarily, so she supposed she’d have to get used to it.

“You’re in the same room as last time.” Said Morgana, changing the subject. They were in the hallway where Morgana’s chamber was located, and as they turned the corner she grinned as if they were once again thirteen and plotting ways to stay up all night without getting caught. “Just around the corner from mine.”

Merlyn laughed and opened the door. It was just as she remembered it. There was a large four poster bed with gossamer white curtains, a vanity table and mirror by the window, and a large writing table and chairs near the hearth. The tapestry of a maiden and a unicorn which she had loved so much on her last visit still hung above the fireplace and there was a vase of wildflowers by the bed. The window was open and the light inner layer of the curtains rippled in the cool spring breeze that floated into the room like a gentle whisper.

“I had my maidservant, Gwen, set everything up for you.” Said Morgana.

“Its perfect.” Merlyn grinned and flopped down on the bed with a sigh. Morgana laughed and sat gracefully on the edge of the soft mattress. The servant who had retrieved Merlyn’s bags from her horse entered and placed the luggage gently at the foot of the bed.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.” Merlyn pulled herself off the bed and stood, going over to her bags.

“Alfred, milady.” The servant replied.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Merlyn smiled and Alfred blushed slightly before nodding his head respectfully and leaving through the servant’s entrance.

.o.O.o.

Merlyn and Morgana spent the next hour chatting happily as Merlyn carefully unpacked her bags and place the various clothing and trinkets in the appropriate places about the room. At midday, there was a knock on the door and a pretty maid with warm eyes and a kind face entered carrying a large tray of food.

“Luncheon, miladies.” She said, placing the tray on the table. There were two plates of fruit and cheese, two goblets, and a pitcher of water.

“Perfect timing, as always, Gwen. Thank you.” Morgana said. “Merlyn this is my maid, Guinevere.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Guinevere.” Merlyn reached out and shook her hand, much to the surprise of the maidservant.

“The pleasure is mine, milady. And please, call me Gwen, most people do.”

Merlyn grinned.

“If I’m to call you Gwen, then you must call me Merlyn. I’ve never been much for titles.”

“Of course, mila-” Merlyn raised an eyebrow teasingly and Gwen’s lips twisted into a smile as she corrected herself. “Of course, Merlyn.”

“It took me ages to convince her to call me Morgana.” Morgana giggled as she reached for her goblet and took a sip.

.o.O.o.

After lunch, Morgana excused herself so that Merlyn might rest from her journey. Merlyn wasn’t feeling particularly tired however, and soon determined that it would be a good time to find her great uncle, Gaius, as she had promised her Uncle Edrik she would when she arrived.

Not bothering to change out of the plain, rusty-red dress she had worn on the ride from Faenor Pell, she left her chamber in search of the elderly court physician. It had been five years since her last visit to the castle and Merlyn wandered around for quite sometime before finally admitting that she was, in fact, completely lost and asking a guard for directions. The guard kindly pointed her towards the tower in which the physician’s chambers were located and a few moments – and several flights of stairs later – Merlyn found herself standing outside a wooden door that stood slightly ajar.

“Hello?” Merlyn called, knocking gently. She poked her head inside. The room appeared to be empty. Merlyn entered and looked around. The chamber was warm with a clean, earthy smell to it. There were several tables cluttered with herbs and bottles and bandages, as well as quite a few painful looking instruments and a large leech tank. There was even a strange mask with the face of a rabbit leaning against a pile of books on one of the desks. Merlyn wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what _that_ was for.

As Merlyn glanced around, she caught sight of Gaius standing on the rickety ledge of a very tall bookshelf. She cleared her throat.

“Hello? Gaius?”

Gaius turned in surprise at the sound of her voice and Merlyn watch in horror as the railing behind him gave why and he fell backwards towards the hard, stone floor. Reacting instinctively, Merlyn felt a great surge of power in her chest and felt her eyes glow molten gold as magic poured out of her, slowing time until it was almost completely frozen. Merlyn looked desperately around her until she spotted the bed in the corner. Using her magic, she dragged the cot and positioned it under the falling physician before allowing time to catch up with itself.

Gaius landed on the thin mattress with a crash, bits of splintered wood landing all around him. He sprang to his feet with surprising agility for a man so old and fixed Merlyn with a pointed stare.

“What did you just do?” he exclaimed.

“Erm…nothing!” said Merlyn quickly, panic written plainly on her face. It was pathetic, she hadn’t even made it a three hours in the city before someone discovered her magic. What was she going to do?

“I know you did something.” Said Gaius forcefully. “Tell me!”

“I-I have no idea what happened.” Merlyn stuttered. Curse her damned inability to tell a convincing lie!

“If anyone had seen that…” Gaius looked suddenly very weary.

“No! That-that was, that was nothing to do with me. That-that was…” Merlyn trailed off at the expression on Gaius’ face.

“I know what it was. It was magic.” Gaius said.

“No, no. It wasn’t.” Merlyn searched desperately for a plausible explanation but found none.

“Where did you study? Who taught you?” he sounded curious now, as if Merlyn was an interesting riddle he wanted to solve.

“I-I’ve never studied magic, or been taught.” Said Merlyn, deciding that since it was obvious Gaius wouldn’t give up his questioning until she answered him, it was best just to be truthful.

“Are you lying to me?” Gaius looked at her suspiciously.

“I was born like this!” she blurted it out forcefully and Gaius looked taken aback.

“That’s impossible! Who are you?”

“I’m Merlyn.” “Hunith’s daughter?” Gaius was truly surprised now.

“Yes!” said Merlyn in relief. Surely Gaius wouldn’t send his own flesh and blood to the pyre, would he?

“It’s been so long I didn’t recognize you.” Said Gaius smiling at her warmly before he frowned. “But you’re not meant to be here until Wednesday.”

“Um, it is Wednesday.” Said Merlyn slowly.

“Oh.” Gaius looked slightly embarrassed and quickly changed the subject.

“We’d best get all this cleared up.” Gaius fetched a broom and Merlyn carefully picked up the larger pieces of wood and deposited them into the kindling basket to be used as firewood when the need should arise. Once everything was back in order, Merlyn looked over at Gaius, still not entirely sure what he planned to do with the knowledge of her magic.

“You-you won’t say anything about…” she gestured to the newly swept floor and repositioned sleeping cot.

“No, best not. Although, Merlyn, I should say thank you.” Gaius replied and Merlyn smiled with relief.

They spent the next hour or so in the physician’s chambers. Merlyn helped Gaius as he prepared some drafts and when the time came for the little bottles of medicine to be delivered, she happily volunteered to take them.

“It will help me learn my way around the castle. I got terribly lost trying to find you earlier.” She said and Gaius agreed with a chuckle, gave her some last minute instructions and sent her on her way.

Once Merlyn had left his chambers, Gaius made his way over to a shelf at the back of the room where he kept his more personal items. He lifted down a large wooden box from the middle shelf and set it on the one empty table, sitting down on the bench with a sigh. He opened the chest carefully and began gently sifting through the contents. He found what he was looking for near the bottom, in a stack of papers. It was a small letter, worn and folded into a tiny square. Gaius opened it and read the words for the first time in many years.

          _My dear Gaius,_

_I turn to you for I feel lost and alone and don’t know who to trust. I remember as a child you always gave me sound advice and I seek that counsel now. It is every mother’s fate to think her child is special, and yet I would give my life that Merlyn were not so. She is so bright a light, and I fear one day she will be snuffed out because of how brightly she shines. Faenor Pell is so small a place and she is so well known to all who live here that I worry about how easily her gifts could be discovered. She needs a hand to hold, a voice to guide, yet I find myself unable to teach her all that she must learn. I beg you, if you understand a mother’s love for her child, help me find a way to keep her safe._

_Love, Hunith_

Gaius finished reading, took off his glasses and folded the letter back up, pressing it tightly between the palms of his wrinkled hands. He sighed deeply. He remembered the reply he’d sent to his niece, even after all the years that had past since he’d written it. It seemed severely lacking in light of the new information he now possessed. He had not realized the extent of the gifts to which Hunith had been referring to until the moment Merlyn had saved him from falling to his death without uttering a word only an hour earlier.

But Hunith was gone now and he could no longer give her anymore satisfactory advice then he had during her life. Gaius would honour her memory however, by helping her daughter in anyway that he could. He would fulfill Hunith’s wish for Merlyn’s future. He would keep her safe and teach her all that he knew, and maybe, just maybe, one day she wouldn’t have to hide her true nature from the world. Gaius could only hope.

.o.O.o.

Once Merlyn left Gaius, she wandered around the castle delivering its inhabitants their prescribed remedies. She only got lost twice and managed all the deliveries in less then an hour. She was quite pleased with herself as she made her way towards the Lower Town to explore. Of course, there had been the small incident with Sir Olwin, who was apparently as blind as a bat and therefore unable to read labels that said _not_ to drink something all at once, but Merlyn was sure he’d be fine, at least she _hoped_ he would be. Accidently killing an elderly knight on the first day of her stay was not exactly the kind of impression she wanted to make on the good people of Camelot.

As Merlyn wandered out of the castle and onto what appeared to be the knights’ training field, she caught sight of a familiar head of golden blond hair among a crowd of young knights who were loitering about, laughing loudly and shoving each other like overgrown children. Merlyn hadn’t seen Arthur Pendragon in five years but there was no mistaking him. He held himself with the same easy confidence she remembered, all broad shoulders and gleaming armour. He seemed to be berating a servant for something and Merlyn moved closer in order to hear the conversation.

“Where’s the target?” Arthur asked as Merlyn reached the edge of the training field. The servant being addressed looked around in confusion, as though he thought it might be a trick question.

“There, Sire?” he replied uncertainly, nodding at the plainly visible target to his left.

“It’s into the sun.” said Arthur.

“But, it’s not that bright.”

“A bit like you, then.” Arthur grinned arrogantly and the group of knights standing behind him guffawed loudly. Merlyn rolled her eyes.

“I’ll put the target at the other end, shall I, Sire?” asked the servant. Arthur nodded condescendingly at him and turned away to mutter something to his friends – who all chuckled dumbly – as the boy bent to carry the heavy wooden target to the other end of the field. Merlyn had a sinking feeling she knew what was coming next.

And she was right. The next second, Arthur had lobbed a sharpened throwing dagger with deadly accuracy at the target – which was currently resting on the back of his servant as he lugged it across the field. The knife bit into the wood within the bull’s eye circle with a sickening thunk.

“Hey! Hang on!” cried the servant, poking his head out from behind the target looking understandably disgruntled.

“Don’t stop!” Arthur called back, still grinning ear to ear.

“Here?” the boy asked hopefully, as he stepped back a bit and tried desperately to figure out exactly what it was Arthur wanted him to do.

“I told you to keep moving!” called Arthur, punctuating his words by throwing a second dagger, this one landing exactly on the bull’s eye with a similar thunk as the first. “Come on! Run!”

The poor manservant shuffled his feet as he tried to carry the large, and obviously very heavy, target back and forth across the training field while Arthur continued to chuck knives at him.

“We want some moving target practice!” Arthur jeered, his knights still laughing stupidly behind him. Eventually, the target became to heavy for the boy and he dropped it, only narrowly missing crushing his own toes, and it rolled unsteadily across the grass until it stopped right at Merlyn’s feet. Merlyn crossed her arms and placed her boot firmly on top of the shield-like object to stop the servant boy from picking it up again. She glared at Arthur who began walking towards her with an unbearable smirk plastered on his face.

“Come on, that’s enough, Arthur.” Said Merlyn, her hands now on her hips, as she continued to glare up on him.

“What?” Arthur’s face flickered with confusion. He was obviously not used to people speaking so freely with him.

“You’ve had your fun.” Merlyn refused to back down, keeping her hands stubbornly on her hips and her foot firmly on the target. The servant had gotten up and was now standing off to the side, watching the exchange with a wary yet curious expression.

“Do I know you?” asked Arthur, condescension once again dripping from his voice. Merlyn rolled her eyes.

“Apparently not.” She said dryly. It had only been a few years and Merlyn certainly didn’t feel as though she had changed enough to be unrecognizable, but first Gaius and now Arthur? It was starting to get ridiculous.

“And yet you address me as a friend.”

“Hmm, that was my mistake.”

“Yes, I think so.” Said Arthur, looking smug again.

“I’d never have a friend who could be such an ass.” Said Merlyn, crossing her arms again. Arthur gaped at her like a fish out of water. The servant he’d been tormenting looked on as though the two of them were a particularly fascinating jousting match and Arthur’s knights were beginning to whisper behind them.

“Tell me,” he asked, trying to sound superior instead of offended. “Are you always this rude?”

“No. Only to supercilious prats who think they’re better than everyone else.”

“I could have you thrown in jail for that.” Arthur scowled at her.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Said Merlyn, her lips twitching slightly, which seemed to provoke Arthur even more.

“Why? What are you going to do to me?” he asked, and suddenly grinned down at her smugly, opening his arms as if inviting her to hit him if she dared.

“Maybe tell the King that you’ve tossed his new ward in the dungeons. I doubt he’d be very happy about that.”

“Wait – what?” Arthur nearly stumbled in surprise and Merlyn had to suppress a laugh.

“You know you’ve gotten even slower since the last time I saw you.” It was Merlyn’s turn to smirk as Arthur floundered, for once in his life at a lost on how to proceed.

“ _Merlyn?_ ” he asked finally, as if hoping she would say no.

“Apparently.”

“You – you look different, I didn’t –” He was stammering rather spectacularly and Merlyn had a very hard time holding in her amusement, despite still being rather angry at him for how he’d been treating his servant.

“Next time don’t be such a prat and you won’t find yourself in situations like this.” She said finally before turning away, back in the direction she’d come, no longer in the mood for exploring. “See you at dinner.”

And with that final remark, Merlyn turned on her heel and stormed back towards the castle – pulling the hem of her dress up over her ankles so as not to trip on it in her haste to depart – leaving a bewildered Prince Arthur, and a flurry of gossip in her wake.

.o.O.o.

Arthur Pendragon was not a man easily astound. He’d faced bloodthirsty bandits, and deadly knights, and ferocious beasts without batting an eye, but as the slender, dark haired figure walked away from him across the training field, it felt almost as though he’d been frozen in place.

“Erm, Sire?” Arthur jumped as the voice of his manservant – a mousey looking boy of about sixteen by the name of Morris – jarred him out of the temporary dazed he’d fallen into.

“Right.” Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly. “I need you to polish my armour, clean by chambers, and mend my blue tunic, there’s a rip on the sleeve.”

“Of course, Sire.” Said Morris, as he began to leave the training field.

“Oh, and Morris.” Arthur called after his servant.

“Yes, Sire?”

“Make sure the throwing daggers are sharpened.” Morris gulped and nodded quickly before beating a hasty retreat towards the castle. Arthur dismissed the knights he’d been training with and followed after Merlyn and his servant at a much more leisurely pace, mulling over everything that had happened.

Merlyn had certainly changed over the last five years. She had been a rather scrawny, wild-haired girl of thirteen the last time Arthur had seen her, and not of much interest to a fifteen-year-old boy barely a year away from achieving knighthood. Now she was a tall, striking, young woman with piercing blue eyes, a sprinkle of freckles across her pale nose, and long raven hair that fell in soft waves all the way down her back.

Granted, if the way she’d gingerly picked up her skirts before storming away from him was any indication, she hadn’t lost any of her natural clumsiness. Her sharp tongue also appeared to be intact, and despite the outward changes in her appearance, it seemed quite clear that the Merlyn he remembered from his youth was very much alive and well. The next few months would certainly be interesting. He dreaded to think what she and Morgana would get up too. They were entirely to alike for his comfort, and dangerous enough on their own, never mind together.

By the time he reached his chamber and pushed the door open carelessly - while trying to undo the straps on the basic armour he’d put on over his favourite red tunic that morning - he was feeling much calmer. Or he was until he glanced at his desk and saw a rather large stack of papers tied with a scarlet ribbon and groaned slightly. With his twenty-first birthday less then a year away, his father had been giving him a larger role in the running of the kingdom, and as much as Arthur appreciated the trust his father bestowed upon him by increasing his responsibilities, the mere thought of paperwork made his skull ache.

Once he finally managed to remove the last of his armour – chucking it rather unceremoniously on the table by the fireplace for Morris to clear up – Arthur sat at his desk and began to sort through the tidy pile of papers. There was a missive from Mercia with a long list of demands from King Bayard for the peace treaty, which Uther wanted his opinion on, a report on taxes received from the outlying regions of Camelot in the south, a spectacularly dull summary of the ongoing conflict on the northern plains, and several letters from neighbouring kingdoms regarding the upcoming tournament. It would take him all afternoon to get through the lot and he’d been rather hoping to go for a ride outside of the city. He supposed that would have to wait however, as he settled in for what would assuredly be a dull and tedious afternoon.

.o.O.o.

Merlyn, meanwhile, spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the castle. She met several other servants – including Arthur’s, who nervously introduced himself as Morris – and ingratiated herself so well to the cook that she was sent away from the kitchens with an apple and two blueberry tarts.

When the bell tower tolled the evening gong, Merlyn found Gwen and asked for a bath to be drawn in her chamber. The cheerful maid was all too happy to oblige, and within half an hour, Merlyn was sinking into perfectly warmed bathwater with a contented sigh. She spent the next few minutes scrubbing away the dirt and grime of her journey and rinsing her hair with her favourite lavender soap, until her skin was a healthy pink and water was beginning to turn cold.

The fireplace was already lit, for despite the warmth of the day, the old, stone castle became uncomfortably cold a night. Merlyn quickly dressed in a dark blue gown with an embroidered neckline, before dragging one of the large oak chairs away from the table so she could sit by the fire while her hair dried.

Her hair was almost dry when a firm knock sounded at the door. When Merlyn opened it, Morgana and Gwen stood on the other side.

“I thought you might like some company before heading up to dinner.” Said Morgana with a grin. “And Gwen could do your hair, if you’d like. She’s very talented.”

Gwen blushed awkwardly.

“That would be helpful actually.” Said Merlyn, letting both of the women into her room. “I’m rather horrible at it myself.”

Merlyn moved to the vanity and Gwen followed, while Morgana set herself down in the chair by the fire.

“I hear you ran into Arthur on the training field today.” Said Morgana. She said it casually, but Merlyn heard the barely contained laughter behind her words.

“Who told you that?” asked Merlyn as Gwen began carefully brushing the tangles out of her long hair.

“Gwen saw it all from the tower window.” Said Morgana. Merlyn glanced up at Gwen in the mirror to see the maid blush again. Merlyn grinned at her.

“I must say, I am glad I won’t be the only one willing to stand up to Arthur when he’s being an idiot. It’s rather a large job for a single person.”

Merlyn laughed.

“He certainly hasn’t changed since I last saw him.” Said Merlyn.

“No, he hasn’t.” Morgana agreed. “He’s been particularly insufferable lately and I haven’t the faintest idea why.”

Before Merlyn could answer, Gwen pushed one last pin into her hair and stepped away.

“There you are, milady.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” Said Merlyn, as she studied her reflection. “I could never have managed to make it look this nice.”

Gwen had skillfully twisted strains of Merlyn’s dark hair and pinned them at the back of her head with a jewelled clip. Her wild, unruly curls had been brushed into submission so they flowed softly down her back in gentle waves. Her hair would never be as sleek or shiny as Morgana’s but Merlyn decided she quite liked the effect Gwen’s work had created.

“Well, we don’t want to keep them waiting.” Said Morgana.

.o.O.o.

Arthur was the first to arrive, and as such spent five minutes drumming his fingers impatiently against the arm of his chair and occasionally snapping at Morris in an attempt to dull the tension headache building behind his eyes.

Uther arrived next, his favourite cloak draped over his shoulder and his crown sitting firmly atop his head. He nodded at Arthur as he took his seat at the head of the table.

A moment later, Arthur heard laughter in the hallway and the door opened to admit Merlyn and Morgana. Guinevere, followed closely behind, smiling broadly at the story Morgana was telling about Sir Leon, one of Arthur’s knights. Arthur had to admit that it was nice to hear Morgana laugh; she didn’t do so nearly as often as she used too. She had been withdrawn lately, only emerging from her shell to snap at him when he did something she didn’t approve of. Maybe, Merlyn coming to stay wouldn’t turn out to be that bad, if it brought Morgana back into herself.

Uther rose from his chair as the women entered the room and Arthur quickly followed suit. His father moved towards Merlyn, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Welcome to Camelot, Lady Merlyn.” Said Uther. “We are most happy to have you.”

Merlyn smiled, but Arthur noticed she seemed a little uncomfortable.

“My uncle and I both thank you for your hospitality in allowing me to stay here.” Said Merlyn. Uther gestured for everyone to be seated.

“Your uncle is a good friend.” Said Uther condescendingly. He smiled warmly at her and took a sip from his wine glass. “We had many adventures in our youth. How could I refuse him the simple request of protection for his only niece while he fights for the peace and prosperity of this kingdom?”

Merlyn simply nodded and lowered her eyes to the plate in front of her. Morgana quickly drew her into a quiet conversation and Arthur became distracted when his father asked him how training with the knights was going.

It wasn’t until about half way through the meal that conversation returned to the group at large with an announcement from Uther.

“There is to be an execution tomorrow at noon. I expect you all to attend.”

“An execution? Of whom?” asked Morgana, surprised.

Arthur frowned. When had this happened and why had he not been informed?

“Thomas James Collins. He was found guilty of sorcery this morning.” Stated Uther.

Merlyn’s stomach dropped and Morgana’s face became as cold as stone.

“What did he do?” asked Morgana. Her voice was icy.

“He practiced sorcery.” Replied Uther, as if that explained everything. “He used magic and he must be punished.”

“But he didn’t kill anyone, or use it to overpower another person?” Said Morgana.

“No.” Said Uther. “But magic is a corruption. It feeds on the soul. We cannot allow it to go unchecked.”

“Surely if he didn’t hurt anyon-” Arthur started, but Uther cut him off.

“No, Arthur. You know the danger that magic poses to our way of life. It must be stopped at all costs.”

“Yes, father.” Said Arthur, folding his arms across his chest as he slumped back in his chair.

.o.O.o.

That night, after dinner, Merlyn lay awake in bed, trying desperately not to think about what it would mean if Uther ever found out about her magic. Her last comforting though as she finally drifted off to sleep was Gaius; surely, he wouldn’t let her burn.


End file.
